


Survive

by TheStrangeSeaWolf



Series: Darkness and Light [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Broken Bones, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flashback on s09e02 The Witch's Familiar, Flashbacks, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, POV Clara Oswin Oswald, Post-Episode: s09e02 The Witch's Familiar, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Telepathic Bond, whouffaldi, you can order a Doctor to cuddle if need be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 02:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20734547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStrangeSeaWolf/pseuds/TheStrangeSeaWolf
Summary: When Clara examines the Doctor she discovers that there is more damaged than just the hand and the forehead. In fact, something terrible must have happened on Skaro. Now, what do you do with a Doctor who is running out of vital force and his will to survive?





	Survive

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for the Kudos. Very encouraging. :)  
Re-watching the first two episodes of season 9, I sensed the extreme drainage of regeneration energy MUST have had some effect. I mean, if the Doctor already expects a small portion of it will cost him an arm or a leg somewhere down the line, what happens if he is virtually drained?
> 
> Trigger warning: suicide is mentioned.

The pinky was definitely broken.

Clara had urged the Doctor to go to the medbay with her. He had protested initially, of course. She sensed he did so more out of habit than out of real reluctancy to be cared for. When she had stretched out her hand and commanded:

“Common, you got a doctor’s appointment!”

He had readily given her his intact left hand and uttered “Yes, Boss”.

Now he sat on a chair in the medbay, his right arm stretched out on a special armrest, Clara slightly bent over him. She was examining his right hand, finger by finger, closely monitoring his reactions. She was not quite sure if the other fingers were broken or just twisted.

“Sunglasses!”

She ordered like a doctor at the operating table, stretching out her hand. He reached into his pocket with his left hand and handed them to her. She put them on, inspecting the hand closer. The glasses informed her that the fifth metacarpal bone was broken. She mumbled, “boxer’s fracture”, as she knew all too well from a certain rowdy from her year eight class whom she had to bring to the hospital after he had gotten himself into a fight with another rowdy. The other fingers were twisted, some tendons torn. Nothing she couldn’t fix with a splint, some bandages and a special 51st century ointment that would speed up the healing.

Now she used the glasses to inspect his forehead. Luckily there was no internal bleeding detected. All damage was purely superficial. She sighed with relief. While the TARDIS was well equipped with the most sophisticated medical technology, brain surgery was still something that needed a real doctor.

She felt the urge to scold him for doing this all to himself. However, she had enough understanding of post-traumatic stress from her time with Danny to know that he already felt guilty enough. Hurting himself was probably his way of snapping him back from flashbacks into reality. It was not a healthy way to do it but making him feel even more guilty was probably not the right way to help him.

She realized that she had stared at his forehead for quite some time without speaking a word and he looked up to her in a mixture of guilt, shame and curiosity. She set her left hand firmly on his head and let the fingers of her right hand hover over the scrapes that were slightly swollen.

“Good thing you are such a bonehead,” she teased “so you can bash your head against walls without damaging anything important.”

He smiled up at her.

“Not much too damage inside, anyway.” He shrugged.

As she looked down at him and reached his chest the sonic reading suddenly blinked a warning:

_Life force: Extreme Low_

_Calculation for need of regeneration running… 68%_

Clara backed away in shock. Then she forced herself to scan the rest of his body. The readings returned no further physical damage. It only seemed that something had drained nearly all power and will to survive out of this body. The system was calculating if there was still hope to restore this self or if regeneration was necessary. 

Clara felt a sudden panic rising. She removed the sunglasses to look directly in the eyes of the Doctor.

“Doctor, what exactly happened on Skaro?”

They hadn’t talked about it. They escaped Skaro, he had sought out the young Davros and saved him, so a future Dalek had “mercy” in his vocabulary and after that she had taken a shower and went for some quiet time with the Doctor in the library of the TARDIS. Not much talking since then. Now Clara wondered what terrible things she had missed.

The Doctor shook his head.

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Doctor, obviously you got badly damaged out there, nearly all your life force is gone. I do think you need to talk about it sometime in the future. But for now, the more urgent question is: how can we restore the energy without you regenerating?”

“Don’t you want me to regenerate? Become a new man?” There was something heartbreaking about the way he looked at her when he asked her. It was pure, innocent and helpless.

She felt tears welling up. Had he really considered regenerating because he thought she didn’t like his current self? Hadn’t she showed him in a thousand ways how much her grey-haired stick-insect of a timelord meant to her?

“Don’t be stupid. Of course, I don’t want you to regenerate. How can you even _think_ I want you to do that?”

Her voice was nearly breaking in disbelief and shock. Her brown eyes met his grey-blue ones which looked equally incredulous.

“Because of what I have become in this regeneration. Because I’m not only old, but I do look old. Because I can’t find the right words, because I scare people and because I fail in protecting you.”

She felt helpless hearing these words, full of self-loathing and sadness. It hurt her deep inside. She wrapped her hands around the grey curls and pulled his head towards her body.

“Doctor, don’t.” was all that she could manage before the tears started to fall. She stroked his head, wrapping her right arm around his shoulders to hold him closer. She felt his arms closing around her. It felt like a child seeking protection and reassurance.

She felt his shoulders stiffen and realized he was trying to keep himself from establishing a telepathic connection. She thought back to the readings from the glasses.

_Vital force: 25%_

_Will to survive: 5%_

If he really thought it was better to regenerate than to live in this body maybe a telepathic link could help him understand how deep her feelings ran for this version of the Doctor. And maybe showing her what happened on Skaro could help him to cope with whatever burdened him.

“Doctor, listen to me: I don’t want you to regenerate. You are my Doctor and I don’t want to have you any other way than how you are now. I think maybe I can help you. Show me what happened on Skaro, so I understand.”

She felt him shaking his head, still stiff but clinging to her waist as if his life depended on it. Maybe, she thought, it did.

“Doctor, just close all doors, except for the one with the memory of the last few hours on Skaro. You don’t have to open anything else, just that one.”

“Scared.” She heard him mumble.

“You didn’t hurt me last time. You won’t damage me this time. I think I can help you, but you have to let me in.”

She felt him nod reluctantly. His shoulders relaxed slightly and suddenly she stood before Davros. She felt and saw everything that happened.

_She saw the Doctor’s hands wrung, begging Davros to spare Clara’s life. She saw herself – Clara – being shot by the Daleks. She felt the hurt that nearly ripped her hearts apart. She felt the rage, the determination to kill every single Dalek to take revenge. She felt the pain when the snakes strangled her in Davros chair. She heard Davros showing her the possibility to kill each and every Dalek with just one cut of the cable._

_And then the strangest thing happened: Just when Davros said “Clara Oswald is dead” to seduce the Doctor to commit genocide she heard herself. She was in the head of the Doctor, telling him not to do it, reminding him that the Doctor is never cruel or cowardly. Reminding him that her Doctor was always trying to be a good man and that this is what made him different from Missy and Davros. Clara felt a bit overtaken. She had had no idea that the Doctor used her as his consciousness and moral compass when conflicted. _

_She felt herself – or the Doctor, for that matter, telepathy was confusing – coming to her senses again, shying away from the cable. She was touched by seeing Davros care for his people. She even shared a laugh with him. She felt the compassion when she realized Davros was about to die and wanted to see one last sunrise with his own eyes. She felt the urge to help the old man, at the same time sensing that it’s a trap. _

Suddenly she felt something breaking the telepathic bond and she was standing in the medbay again. The Doctor, stiff again, had placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I think that’s enough, Clara” she heard the Doctor’s voice, hoarse but gentle. She felt a little dizzy and grabbed a hold on the operation table to steady herself.

“I can see it is exhausting for you.”

“I’m not that easily exhausted, Doctor.” She replied, knowing that it was a lie. She felt dead tired.

Quickly she slipped on the sonic sunglasses to scan the Doctor:

_Vital force: 30%_

_Will to survive: 5%_

Obviously, the Doctor had regained some of his vital force. Might be because of the telepathic bond, might be just because he had a bit of time to calm down. The alert for low life force was still there and the calculation for the need of regenerating was still going on. She was quite concerned to see his will to survive hadn’t increased at all.

“Doctor, I think you will have to show me the rest of the day so I can help you.” She said.

“Maybe you should get a bit of a rest, Clara.” He looked concerned.

“I sure don’t get a rest when there is a risk of you regenerating on me, daft old man!” she placed her hand on his cheek.

“Clara, you look dead tired, let’s continue tomorrow, okay? I promise I won’t regenerate over night.”

She had to smile involuntarily. Stubborn. And he definitely looked dead tired, too.

“Doctor, I’m not going to sleep with your vital force still as low as 30% and your body considering regeneration. You come here and show me what happened” She used her teacher voice on him and stretched out her arms.

“Well, then at least I’ll stand up.”

She was not sure if this was because he was ashamed of the child-like way she had held and comforted him previously or if he was thinking it was more comfortable for her. The Doctor tried to stand up, just to fall back in his chair with a sigh of pain because he had tried to heave himself up using his bruised hand.

“Hmmm, maybe I take care of your hand, first.” Clara had nearly forgotten about it. The TARDIS had already provided the necessary supplies. She cleaned the wounds, then carefully rested his hand on the splint. She made sure that the broken bones were aligned correctly, using the sonic glasses. Then she spread the healing ointment carefully and bandaged the hand. The Doctor had endured the whole procedure without flinching once. When she looked up, she saw the deep affection in his eyes that rested on her. 

“There, there, much better already.” She said in her most comforting voice. “One final check if the bandage hasn’t dislocated anything and you are good to go.” She slid on the sonic glasses. Of course, she knew nothing was dislocated, she was more interested in the other readings.

_Vital force: 30%_

_Will to survive: 8%_

She suppressed a small smirk of relief. It might be tiny, but it seems her care _had_ an effect on his will to stay alive.

“No swimming for the next 2 weeks.” She ordered.

“Yes, Boss!” he replied with a hint of a smile.

He really looked tired. She had never seen him so tired, even after adventures that involved a lot of running around and close calls. She was not sure if it was due to the emotional stress of effectively having prepared to die for weeks just to come out alive or due to the very low life force. She herself felt every bone in her body, probably due to falling 20 feet into the sewers and being locked inside a Dalek casing. If she was honest, she was more than ready to call it a day, the only thing that kept her on her feet was the concern for her Doctor.

Considering the options, she got an idea.

“Doctor, how about we go to somewhere more comfortable? Library and tea?”

He nodded with relief. She suspected because he thought she let him slip and he didn’t have to show her the rest of what happened on Skaro. Well, well, not so easily. But she knew better than starting a discussion now.

They went to the library. She laid down on the sofa, head against a pillow on the armrest and opened her arms.

“Come here” she tapped on her breast.

He stood there, stiff as a poker, eying her confused.

“Ah, common Doctor, nothing bad is going to happen. It’s just that we are both tired, it has been quite a day and so we can make it comfortable for both of us.”

Still no reaction, him standing there, staring. There was a slight hint of red on his cheeks. She thought that this was probably the only man she knew that would seriously reject such an offer. His previous incarnation for sure wouldn’t have resisted. This incarnation, however, was extremely cute when blushing, she noted and suppressed a giggle.

“Ok, ok, I see. But it’s what the doctor prescribes, so you do the following: you will sit down next to me, then turn your back towards me, put your legs on the sofa and rest your head against my breast. You told me you could manage this slight telepathic issue when I hug you from behind. This is really close to it, so you will be much safer to decide what to do and what not to do than you were in the medbay.”

It seemed getting clear instructions worked well. He was still stiff and looked extremely confused, but he slowly did as he was told. Soon she felt him heavily on her body, his head resting beneath her chin. He folded his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her hands on his forearms. 

“Comfortable?” She asked.

He nodded. He still felt stiff. She kneaded his arms.

“Listen, you don’t have to do anything you feel uncomfortable with. But the last link seemed to have steadied your vital force, so it seems to help improving your condition.”

“Don’t want to go there.”

She saw that his whole body grew tense at the thought. There was a scream in her head, probably a fraction of his memory leaking out. It was him screaming in pain. Had they tortured him? That was usually not the Dalek’s style. They were more in for immediate extermination. With Davros and Colony Sarff, however… She shuddered at the mere thought of the snake man.

She knew some of Danny’s friends from his time in the army. She remembered one very quiet, very friendly and shy guy, Leo. He had a wife and a little boy and everything seemed alright, two years after he came home from the war. One day he didn’t come home from work. He had shot himself in the backyard of a funeral home, making sure his body wasn’t found by his family, but by a professional. It was typically Leo, always acting in a way to cause minimal disturbance. Danny had told her that they freed him from a terror camp where he was held hostage for over a week. His injuries indicated that he had been tortured cruelly. However, as far as Danny knew, Leo had never talked about it or sought the help of a professional. He just resumed his duty after his recovery and was dismissed around the same time as Danny. Danny told her of other cases he knew of and how critical it was to deal with the specific deformations of the soul torture left.

If the Doctor had been tortured, maybe it was not good to urge him to show her this memory with his life force so low. On the other hand, what if somehow his will to survive had suffered from what they did to him and keeping it in worsened his condition? Was there something she could do?

She could eventually transfer a happy memory… Easier said than done. Most of their happy memories took place before or short after dangerous, potentially life-threatening situations, most likely to trigger darker memories in the afterglow. Christmas? Christmas was probably a good one. Worth a shot, at least.

“Doctor, close all doors, but let me in for a connection.” She begged him.

He seemed to look up at her, but she couldn’t see his expression. From what she felt, she suspected it to be a skeptical glance.

“Don’t you worry, I won’t break you, daft old man.”

She felt his shoulders relax. She lowered her head to let her nose sink into the shock of unruly grey curls. Not because she found it necessary to make a connection, but because it was something she had wanted to do for ages and now had an excuse to do it.

Of course, with the connection already established, she realized the timelord was able to hear this thought. She realized her mistake immediately as she heard a surprised sound from the timelord. This telepathy business was harder than expected. The sound changed into a giggle. A sound which she found so adorable that she had to break the connection to let out a giggle, too.

He arched his head backwards to look her in the eyes.

“Smell my hair? Why in the universe would you crave to smell my hair?” he asked amused.

“I don’t know, I always wanted to know how it smells.”

“I do get why you might smell flowers or food, but my hair?”

“Says the man who smells what time it is and licks a lot of weird stuff just to find out how it tastes or when it was last used.”

“I don’t!”

“Yes, you do! Remember when I had to free your frozen tongue from a stranded spaceship on that ice planet because you were not sure if it was a Galaxy X2 or a Galaxy X3 ship and insisted to lick it to find out? If I hadn’t had my hairdryer and the TARDIS extension cords were longer than they look from the outside you were still up there and by now completely frozen.” 

“Bergeuze 7 – and it was important to find out because only the X3 was built from the material we needed to fix the TARDIS.”

Clara burst into laughter when she remembered the scene, the Doctor joined in.

“But I’m not the only one. Who was the one who insisted she had to taste the haggis on New Caledonia 2, although I warned her it was not compatible with the human body?”

“The cook said he used another spice, so it was compatible!”

“Baa!”

“Oi, shut up, you!” she slapped him playfully.

“Baa!”

She giggled and then both laughed wholeheartedly at the memory of Clara growing sheepskin all over her body.

They went on sharing stories and laughing.

Maybe, Clara thought as she looked down at a much more relaxed timelord, maybe for some memories telepathy wasn’t necessary. And hopefully, they were able to restore the will to survive of a timelord on the edge of regeneration.

_I sure won’t regenerate if I can stay in these arms like this._

Either the connection was never broken, or he had established it again, consciously or unconsciously.

_I wouldn’t have my Doctor any other way._

She quickly replied.

She felt a deep happiness and relief emerging from him. She didn’t want to disturb the moment to reach for the sonic sunglasses, but she was rather sure that she would see an increase in his will to survive by now.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to end this on a lighthearted note. Because: reasons.
> 
> [Hint: think long and hard at the next thing that will happen on Skaro when the Doctor breaks the bond with Clara. Her assumption what happened when she hears the scream is wrong. It's much, much darker and in my opinion the most underrated piece of fridge horror Moffat has ever written.]


End file.
